Miniature Disasters and Minor Catastrophes
by mondavis
Summary: Bill and Laura discover that sometimes it just comes naturally. SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2.5 THROUGH THE CAPTAIN'S HAND.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Miniature Disasters and Minor Catastrophes  
Author: mondavis  
Characters: Adama/Roslin  
Rating: teen  
Disclaimer: None of these folks are mine. I just play with other people's stuff.  
Spoilers: Season 2, through The Captain's Hand.

A/N: This is complete speculation. I don't know any spoilers.

Summary: Election night blues…

* * *

He found her sitting on his sofa, dressed in a pair of military issue sweats with her feet tucked under her while she read a book. He noticed a nearly empty glass of ambrosia sitting on the table in front of her.

Closing the hatch, he said, "They told me you were here."

Laura looked up and smiled a little but said nothing.

"Shouldn't you be on _Colonial One_ on election night?" Bill tried again, coming to sit next to her.

She shrugged. "I was in need of some solitude."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Should I leave?"

Laura shook her head. "No. Now I could use the company." She frowned and looked down at her hands, curled around the book. "I'm going to lose."

Bill frowned at the flat tone of her voice. "How are you so sure?"

Closing the book, Laura leaned forward and placed it on the table. She picked up her glass instead. "I haven't played this very well," she admitted quietly. "It started with the Kibby girl."

Bill settled back and watched her face carefully.

"I should have gone with my first instinct and upheld the legality of abortion." She rubbed her forehead. "I let Gaius Baltar manipulate me. I've made other mistakes along the way but damn if that wasn't one of the biggest." She looked at him with a wry smile. "I'm sorry, Bill."

"The results won't be in for hours," he reminded her.

"The latest projections have him ahead by more than two thousand votes."

Bill fought the urge to laugh. Here she was sitting in sweats, drinking and reading a book but she was still in complete command of everything.

"Do you remember what I told you I saw?" she asked suddenly.

Bill nodded slowly. She'd told him about it weeks ago and then, as now, he had hoped there had been some proof of Baltar's treason other than the epiphany of a dying woman.

"Once he's president, he will turn his attention to trying to discredit you," Laura said carefully. "He knows that you're not likely to be a willing participant in his rule. He knows that you support me. With me out of power, he'll need to try to remove you and the only way to do that –" she paused and held his gaze intensely – "is to remove the support of your crew."

He nodded, having deduced that much as well. Bill had made no secret about his preference for president, even though Baltar tried to twist it into "the military wants a weak civilian leader who can be controlled." Bill had laughed in the reporter's face that had brought him that particular sound-bite. _Nobody_ controlled Laura Roslin, least of all him. But she was right. Baltar was already trying to gain favor with the crew; promising them special rights, privileges and goods "for their exemplary and brave service." The next step was to sow the seeds of mutiny and then the madman would control it all.

"You'll have to be careful, Bill," Laura said sadly. "I frakked this up for both of us and I am so sorry."

He couldn't take this version of her, so he turned on the sofa and reached for her hands, squeezing them tightly.

"If you lose – if – I will not let that lunatic destroy what we have fought to preserve," he told her fiercely. "He'll have a tragic accident first."

Laura gave a short, wry laugh. "What's gotten into you?" she quoted. "You've become so bloody-minded." She smiled at him with tears shining in her eyes.

Bill smiled back. "I've gotten used to having you around," he told her warmly. "I just want to keep you where you are."

Laura sighed and squeezed his hands. "I'm going to miss working with you."

"You don't have to."

"How do you mean?"

"This was actually Colonel Tigh's idea," Bill said with a grin. "He was saying something about if you lost the election that if I wanted to keep you around, I could always tap you to be my civilian liaison."

Laura's eyes widened incredulously. "You can't be serious …?"

"Why not?" Bill asked, rubbing his thumbs along the backs of her hands. "You'd be moved to _Galactica_ and you can advise me about when Baltar needs his wings clipped."

"Oh my," she murmured, clearly considering the idea. After a few long moments, she got that impish, sly smile back. "I've been such a pain in your ass, I would have thought you would be well rid of me," she teased.

He laughed. "Never. Besides, there's an upside to you losing the election."

Laura looked skeptical. "Upside?"

Bill nodded, his heart pounding. "Yeah," he began with a dry mouth. "If you're not the president anymore, then this won't be completely inappropriate."

Still clasping her hands, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was warm and brief. Bill pulled back slightly, just enough to see her eyes. Same as the first time he kissed her, all those weeks ago, her eyes were still closed and she was smiling. Feeling encouraged, Bill closed the distance again.

But Laura stopped him with a word. "Bill?"

He froze, his lips barely grazing hers. "Laura."

She grinned. "It's about time," she said and captured his mouth deeply.

End?

* * *

I totally hate WIPs but this might be one because of the potential for hilarity with Laura, Tigh and Ellen all on the same ship! Hee!

Oh, and if you get a chance, listen to KT Tunstall. She's a UK artist and wow, she's good. :)


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Miniature Disasters and Minor Catastrophes 2?  
Author: mondavis  
Characters: Adama/Roslin  
Rating: teen  
Disclaimer: None of these folks are mine. I just play with other people's stuff.  
Spoilers: Season 2, through The Captain's Hand.

A/N: This is complete speculation. I don't know any spoilers.

Summary: Where things get a little hot …

* * *

Laura Roslin had certainly never spent an election night like this.

Prior election nights had been tense, anxious nightmares of constant streams of polling data, projections and speech preparation. The last election night, Laura had been hooked up to a microphone and stood in front of camera giving speech after speech on last-minute remote stumps. She had worked until the polls closed across all of the colonies, then she had collapsed into a chair with a bottle of white wine and a pack of cigarettes until the major news services called the election for Adar.

_What a difference four years and genocide makes_, she thought to herself as William Adama's hands slid up and down her back under her shirt. This time, it was _her_ presidential election and she was likely to lose and she was passing the time by occupying the lap of her Chief of the Military and making out like a teenager. Richard Adar would not have been pleased… mostly because he wasn't the one she was making out with.

Laura knew that now was not the time to dwell on dead lovers; not when Bill's mouth was so inviting, when he tongue was so enticing and his hands so very busy. Still, Richard was the last man to kiss her like this and she couldn't shake the comparisons. She and Bill had been kissing for a long while, probably a half hour and it hadn't progressed much further beyond that and some light touching. Laura knew that it wasn't because he didn't want her; she could most definitely feel his arousal but he seemed very content with kissing. It was almost as if he were _savoring_ her.

This was very different from what she had grown accustomed to with Richard. Perhaps it was just the circumstances but everything was always very urgent with him. He'd kiss her and seven seconds later, he'd have his hands either under her shirt or between her legs or both. It wasn't that he took his pleasure and dismissed her. Laura had lost count of the times she'd lain on her back across his desk with her thighs draped over the shoulders of the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. Richard's fault wasn't that he wouldn't please her; it was that sex with him really didn't mean anything, a fact that Laura hadn't really realized until after he was dead.

Bill Adama was different. She never would have guessed he could be so tender and so passionate at the same time. His touch was reverent, exciting and comforting. His mouth was serious without being demanding and Laura got the feeling that if this was all they ever did, he would be content.

The realization made her pull away with a gasp.

"Laura?" Bill said, his voice full of concern.

She smiled because his hair was mussed, his lips moist and his skin was flushed.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked gently as his hands rubbed lightly along her waist.

"My last lover," Laura told him honestly and chuckled as his eyes darkened ominously. "Not that way," she amended and leaned in for a long, wet kiss to emphasis the point. "It wasn't like this with him," Laura said when broke the kiss. "It was always rushed. I like you better."

Bill returned her grin, thankfully not offended. "I'm glad but I can understand his being rushed," he said, looking directly into her eyes. "Being President of the Twelve Colonies is demanding work."

Laura's eyes widened and she fought a futile battle to keep the guilty surprise off her face.

Bill nodded. "I see I guessed correctly."

And when Laura swung her legs over and stood, he let her go.

Heart pounding, she paced two steps left, then two steps right before squaring herself to face him fully.

"I want you to understand," she began carefully but he cut her off.

"Why do I need to understand?" Bill leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"Because what you think of me matters a great deal!"

"Then know that I don't think less of you. You had an affair with a married man. If that's your greatest mistake before the attack, then you should consider yourself fortunate."

Laura stared at him. "That's it?"

Bill laughed. "What? Did you expect me to dress you down?"

Completely discombobulated, all Laura could manage was a small shrug.

With a nod, Bill stood and approached her personal space. "OK," he said, "When I am kissing you, I would appreciate that your mind is not occupied with thoughts of other men, do I make myself clear?" This last was growled out with such force that Laura shook with it. Shook primally with a little fear and desire all rolled together into something hard that seemed to hit her across the stomach.

"Yes, sir," she managed on half a whisper but it didn't matter because his mouth was on hers again and this time it was demanding as his tongue pushed between her lips and his hands held her head in place while he plundered the way he wanted. Laura didn't even know what to do with her own hands, so they kind of hung in the air somewhere near their shoulders while she was kissed breathless.

Until klaxons sounded almost at the same time that his phone started buzzing.

Laura nearly stumbled when Bill broke the kiss. He steadied her and satisfied that she's regained her footing, quickly crossed to the phone. "Adama."

She was straightening her clothing when the ship rocked violently and she was pitched to the deck with a thump.

"I'm on my way with the President," Bill reported to CIC and hung up.

"Cylons, no doubt," Laura said, climbing to her feet.

"Are you alright?" Bill asked.

But President Roslin was already heading toward the hatch.

* * *

To be continued. 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Miniature Disasters and Minor Catastrophes 3?  
Author: mondavis  
Characters: Adama/Roslin  
Rating: teen  
Disclaimer: None of these folks are mine. I just play with other people's stuff.  
Spoilers: Season 2, through The Captain's Hand.

A/N: This is complete speculation. I don't know any spoilers.

Summary: Where things get even hotter…

* * *

"Radiological alarm! Nukes incoming!"

"Brace for impact!"

Bill Adama grabbed hold if the hatch doorway with one hand and Laura Roslin with the other, waiting for the missile to hit. He spared a glance at the dradis console and noted grimly that there was a hell of a lot of activity out there.

_Galactica_ rocked and pitched hard to port. Bill stumbled badly and would have taken a header into the wall if Laura had not quickly reversed their grasp and held him steady with a startlingly strong grip. He gave her a grateful look before he returned his attention to CIC.

"Was there impact?" Tigh yelled.

"Negative," responded Lt. Gaeta. "The CAP intercepted."

"Thank the Gods for small favors," the XO breathed and Admiral Adama was inclined to agree.

"Sitrep," Bill said as he and Laura approached. His eyes were glued to the dradis.

"Two Basestars jumped damned near on top of us," Tigh reported. "Alert Vipers were just in the tubes when this last barrage came in."

"Confirm alert Vipers are away," Adama said.

Dee checked. "Confirmed, sir. They are away. _Pegasus_ also reports her Vipers away."

"Do we have a solution?"

"Negative," said Tigh. "The civvies are scrambling all over the place out there. The CAP has had a hard enough time avoiding hitting them. I've already ordered an emergency jump but –" the ship rocked again – "some of them report blast wave damage."

"Put us between the Cylons and the civilians – "

"Not necessary, sir," Gaeta reported. "They're not targeting the civilians. Fire seems to be concentrated on _Galactica _and _Pegasus._"

"Radiological alarm!"

This time _Galactica_ jolted sharply, immediately followed by the wail of alarms.

"Partial impact!" Gaeta yelled over the din. "Starboard flight pod. Moderate damage. Crews are on their way."

"We've got to get the civilians out of here," Adama said. He picked up his handset and at Dee's signal, began to speak. "This is Admiral Adama to all remaining ships. If you are capable, execute emergency jump protocol gamma immediately. If you cannot jump, attempt to get your ship out of the immediate combat area."

"Sir!" Dee's voice was sharply alarmed. "I'm reading a nuke heading toward _Colonial One._"

He couldn't help it; he looked at Laura in time to see all of the color drain out of her face.

"_Colonial One,_ this is _Galactica!" _Dee said. "You've got a nuke coming your way!"

"Too late," Tigh murmured, watching the Dradis.

A few seconds later, Gaeta said, "Direct hit to _Colonial One_… Port side, aft section … They're venting atmosphere."

"Sir, the civilians are clear of our solution."

"Target the axis of the nearest Basestar and fire!" Adama said immediately.

"Incoming nuke!"

"To us or _Colonial One_?"

"Both, sir!"

"Are they targeting any of the other civilian ships?" Tigh asked gruffly.

"Negative, sir."

The Admiral, the Colonel and the President all shared an uneasy look before all three had to grab the console to keep from falling as a blast wave rolled over the ship.

"Get me Starbuck!"

* * *

"Alright, kids, it seems that the Cylons have got a beef with our President," Starbuck told her pilots over the wireless. "HotDog, you and PunchBag haul ass over to _Colonial One_ and make sure she doesn't take any more nukes. The rest of you, let's see if we can take some heat off _Galactica_."

She rolled hard right and fired at two Raiders crossing her path. Up ahead, one of the Basestars was starting to list and buckle under the assault from _Pegasus_. _Galactica's _main batteries were lit up on the other Basestar and Starbuck dove under the ordnance to intercept an incoming missile. On her wing, Kara could see Kat take out two more Raiders, then flip to hit a third coming in from her six.

"Show off," she muttered under the breath.

Her radiological alarm sounded and she looked up in time to see two nukes buzz by her out of nowhere. Flipping her ship, she pursued the missiles, dodging debris and weapons fire as she tried to get a target lock.

"Come on!" Kara yelled as she missed. "Where are you going, you frakker!"

The missiles streaked straight up, then hard left and dove. Kara got on her wireless. "_Galactica_, you've got incoming nukes!" She got an intermittent lock on one of the missiles and fired. She hit with her third volley and screamed out in a mix of triumph and frustration as she missed the second one. "_Galactica_, one nuke down; the other one is still coming in hard."

"Acknowledged, Starbuck," Adama said over the wireless. Starbuck increased her speed, trying to catch up. Firing almost desperately, she jerked her joystick up, then down, following the missile. Amazingly, she nicked it and it started wavering wildly before it exploded with a blinding flash.

It was then that Kara Thrace realized how close she'd gotten to the nuke but she also knew it was already too late.

* * *

"The nuke has been destroyed, sir!"

"Good. Keep firing on the Basestar. Is _Colonial One_ hit?"

"HotDog reports that she took a hard blast wave, sir," Dualla informed him. "She's lost all attitude control and I can't raise her on the wireless."

Bill felt ice in his belly. How easily could Laura have been on that ship tonight? It's where she _should_ have been. He looked over at her pale, grim face and thought that while he deeply regretting the lost of life over there, maybe there was something to the belief that many in the fleet still held of her. Laura Roslin was either very lucky or maybe the Gods really were watching out for her.

But it didn't really matter. Not now. She was relatively safe on _Galactica_ and they were somehow beating back what appeared to be an attempt at endgame by the Cylons. They could debate the causes of their good fortunes later.

Instead, he dispatched Raptors to check out the damage and see if there was anyone still alive on _Colonial One._

Gaius Baltar was pacing. _Cloud 9_ had been one of the first ships to jump when the Cylons attacked and had been waiting at the gamma coordinates with thirty other ships for nearly five hours. At this point, they had no idea if the remaining ships had survived and the more time that went by, the more unlikely it seemed.

"Congratulations, Mr. President," Gina told him with a broad smile.

Gaius frowned. "They haven't called the election yet," he reminded her testily. "Seems the attack by _your_ people has thrown off the election schedule."

She laughed and lounged back on the sofa. "It doesn't matter, does it? Either you've won the election or Roslin is dead along with her pet Adama. Either way, you're President and now I think it's time for you to go make a speech about the tragic loss of _our_ President and how peace is the only real answer now."

He smiled a bit. "Ah, yes, I suppose I should."

Fifteen minutes later, Baltar was where he loved to be most: in front of cameras. "Regardless of the outcome of this election," he said solemnly with an adjustment of his glasses, "Laura Roslin will be mourned by us all. And with the tragic losses of _Galactica_ and _Pegasus_, I do believe that our circumstances have changed dramatically and our first priority must be to –"

"Mr. Vice President!" someone called out. "We've just received a wireless report that both the _Galactica_ and _Pegasus_ have just jumped to our position. They say that President Roslin is aboard _Galactica _unharmed."

As all of the cameras and microphones swung back his way, Gaius Baltar fought to keep a calm smile on his face. And in the back of the room, both Six and Gina turned and walked out.

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­Laura had not been on _Galactica_ in the aftermath of an attack many times before. The chaos of damage reports, head counts and clean up was overwhelming. Especially since she still didn't know the status of the people she'd left on _Colonial One._

Her mind catalogued all 352 names and faces of her shipmates. Most of them had called her ship home since the very early days of the exodus. They were faces that Laura was accustomed to seeing every day. They were ordinary people but they had proven so resourceful and helped to form a government out of almost nothing. The young man with the dirty blonde hair was a whiz with mathematics and had calculated fuel supply usage so that each ship had enough. The blind woman from Virgon had studied agriculture and worked with the ships capable of growing food to set up crop rotations. The older man from Aquaria had collected skill information from almost everyone in the fleet and put those willing to work where they were needed. Everyone one of them had proved themselves valuable beyond just being alive and to think of them now as dead filled Laura with more emptiness than she'd felt since the beginning of the end of the world.

_Galactica's_ Combat Information Center was a whirlwind of activity and not wanting to be in the way, the president left CIC and headed for the hangar deck. If there were survivors, the Raptors carrying them would dock there.

She rounded a corner and came face-to-face with the last thing she had expected: reporters. Immediately, their lights came on and they thrust cameras and microphones in her face.

"President Roslin! We've heard reports that _Colonial One_ was destroyed!"

"President Roslin, why weren't you on _Colonial One_?"

Laura sighed and signaled to her security. "I'm not taking questions right now," she told them wearily. "This ship has sustained damage and there are a great many people injured. Perhaps the four of you could find something more useful to do than standing around asking me why I'm not dead." With her nod, her detail pulled the reporters out of her way and the President of the Twelve Colonies continued to the hangar deck to check on her people.

"The reporters got here shortly before the attack," Tigh said with a grunt as he cracked his back. "I guess they were coming to record her concession speech."

Bill frowned at his executive officer. "She hasn't lost it yet."

"No, but the writing was on the wall," Saul returned. He put up his hand when Bill glowered at him. "Look, for what it's worth, we're a hell of a lot better off with her than that frakkin' loon Baltar but this thing had been going south for her for a while."

Bill sighed and leaned on the console. "Yeah. I told her about the civilian liaison job."

Saul snorted grumpily, clearly cursing the day he'd jokingly planted that damned idea in Adama's head. "Is she going to take it?"

Bill nodded. "Probably." He paused and checked the roll-call of ships Gaeta had just handed him. It was conspicuously minus one. "Besides," he added, "she needs somewhere to live now, doesn't she?"

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Miniature Disasters and Minor Catastrophes 4?Author: mondavis  
Characters: Adama/Roslin  
Rating: Adult  
Disclaimer: None of these folks are mine. I just play with other people's stuff.  
Spoilers: Season 2, through The Captain's Hand.

A/N: This is AU with the events of "Lay Down Your Burdens."

Summary: Where things get a little sad…

* * *

"Madame President. Madame President. _Laura!_ He's gone." 

On the screen, Admiral Adama carefully wrapped his arms around the President to pull her hands off the bloody mess of some man's chest. The microphones captured her anguished curse and the cameras zoomed in on the tears shining on her face.

That is before Bill Adama's hand blocked the shot. You could hear his low threat, "Get that camera out of her face unless you want it up your ass."

"She's incredibly good," D'Anna Biers murmured as she watched the footage. The reporters on _Galactica_ had broadcast it all over the fleet as soon as they got into range. They'd captured the utter chaos and carnage as the survivors from _Colonial One_ were brought on board. It showed President Roslin helping to carry injured people off the Raptors. It showed her applying bandages and taking orders from medical personnel. It showed her on her hands and knees applying pressure to wounds that were beyond hope and crying silently as one by one, people died around her. It was quite compelling to watch.

"She's a politician," Gina scoffed with annoyance. "And it doesn't matter anyway. Gaius will be president."

D'Anna shook her head, watching a replay of the footage. "She's _sincere_," she said with awe. "Surely, you can see the potential; especially after her 'cure'. We don't even know for sure what she is. Or what she could become."

Gina turned to her sharply, but whatever she was going to say was lost as Gaius Baltar entered the room.

"Have you seen that footage?" he demanded. "I should be giving my victory speech but instead everyone is watching this!" He gestured angrily to the display. "Grand-tanding is what this is!"

"I'm sure that once things settle down a bit, they'll be ready for your speech, Mr. Vice President," D'Anna placated easily.

"That's Mr. _President_," Baltar corrected. "And I don't see your camera here. I'm sure you'll want an interview."

Fighting a smirk, D'Anna glanced at a still glaring Gina and shook her head. "Of course. Mr. President."

* * *

Saul Tigh, Bill Adama and Laura Roslin sat around a small table in the Admiral's quarters and tried to process the tragedy before them. Of the 352 inhabitants of _Colonial One_, 193 had survived the Cylon attack. The rest of them had been blown into space or injured and/or irradiated beyond all hope. In addition, they'd lost three Vipers and their pilots and Starbuck's bird would be out of commission for weeks. The loss of life was bad enough but the facts surrounding this latest assault were startling as well. The Cylon attack pattern has been radically different from anything previous. 

"So they were going for full decapitation," Laura commented with a shake of her head.

Tigh harrumphed mirthlessly. "Obviously, the Cylons aren't up on the current events," he said, rubbing at his neck. "They should have been targeting _Cloud 9_."

Laura glared at him but said nothing.

"The question is how did they find us so accurately," Bill observed. "They started shooting almost as soon as they cleared the jump. They knew exactly where we were and where to hit."

"Maybe one of the Cylons in the fleet tipped them off," said Tigh.

"Or they're tracking one of the ships again."

"Or," Laura began slowly shifting her eyes to Adama, "we have a traitor in our midst."

Bill stared at her and she could tell that he, too, had considered the possibility. Perhaps Baltar was looking for a little extra assurance of his presidential victory.

During the long, pregnant silence, Tigh looked back and forth between the Admiral and President, clearly out of the loop. Frustrated, he said "Does anyone care to fill me in on what the frak is going on?"

Bill gave a small shrug. "It's your story to tell," he conceded.

Nodding, Laura turned in her seat to face _Galactica's_ executive officer and told him the story of what she had remembering seeing at the Riverwalk on Caprica the day of the attack.

Astonished, Tigh's mouth fell open. "Do you have any proof?"

Laura shook her head. "If I did, he'd be sitting in the brig right now." _Or out an airlock,_ she added to herself.

Tigh sat back heavily in his chair. "Well, this is a frakking mess! A godsdamn traitor in the presidency!" He shook his head. "We were better off with the prophet."

Laura smirked. "I suppose there's a compliment in there somewhere."

"You're damned right there is. You may be a pain in the ass but you'd never sell us out to the Cylons."

"Saul, a little respect," Bill chastised.

His XO scoffed. "She's not president anymore and that's the heart of our problem, isn't it?"

"He's right, Bill," Laura said, getting to her feet. She looked like she was going to say something else but then suddenly turned back to Tigh. "Interesting that you didn't believe me at all about the Tomb of Athena but you accept this, what some might consider to be a legitimately insane notion, without question."

Having stood when she did, Tigh looked annoyed. "That's because I think it's plausible," he told her gruffly. "There's something about that shifty bastard that has never seemed right. Take his so-called Cylon detection machine. He cleared Boomer and never gave an explanation for that frak-up."

Adama nodded slowly. "And during the initial attack, didn't he seem to have some completely different method for detecting them?"

"Something about DNA or some such," Tigh concurred. "He'd pegged Doral in only a couple of hours, yet tells us that it takes over 11 hours _after_ we give him a nuclear bomb."

Laura put her hands on her hips and started pacing. "But he _did_ identify Aaron Doral as a Cylon and he was right." She paused, lips pursed. "But he cleared Lt. Valerii, which almost proved catastrophic."

"For me, at least," Bill murmured wryly.

But Laura shook her head. "For _all_ of us. Don't underestimate your importance to the fleet." She paused and looked visibly reluctant to say her next words. "Both of you," she ground out.

Tigh's eyebrow rose and Bill Adama had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. "I suppose there's a compliment in there somewhere," he tossed back at her.

Looking him straight in the face, Laura nodded. "You're damned right there is," she said in a dry tone. "You may be a pain in the ass but you'd never sell us out to the Cylons, either."

Now Bill did laugh. "The two of you on the same page is frightening."

Laura shook her head. "You should be afraid, but of Gaius Baltar. It is possible that he knows who the Cylons are in the fleet. And where they are."

"And you know what else bothers me?" Bill said thoughtfully. "How the Cylon that shot Cain got off _Pegasus_? How did she get the weapon?" He rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "At the time, I think we were a little too grateful for the convenience of it that we didn't ask enough questions, especially since Baltar did have access to her alone for all those days."

Laura nodded. "Lords know I was distracted."

"You were ill," Adama reminded her.

"So you think Dr. Batshit purposely distracted the Marine to give the Cylon a chance to get the gun?" Tigh asked.

"Dr. _Batshit_?" Bill asked, barely hiding his grin.

Tigh shrugged. "Deck crew came up with it. You gotta admit it's appropriate."

Giggling, Laura nodded. "Yes, yes, it is." But then she got serious. "We have a lot of questions that need answers and while he's president, we'll have to watch him carefully. And limit his power."

"So say we all," both men returned.

* * *

"How's Captain Thrace?" Laura asked out of the blue after Tigh excused himself to CIC. 

Bill handed her a glass of water. "She's a little banged up but she didn't catch much radiation," he told her. "She should be back on her feet in a few days."

Laura nodded. "I'm glad." And Adama could tell that was true. Laura had been the first one to greet Kara when the Raptor brought her in.

They were quiet for a long moment before she said, "I got the election results." Her voice was very, very quiet.

Bill frowned. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Looking sheepish, she set her glass on the table and turned away. Pulling a book off of his shelf, she leafed through it absently. "I've known it was inevitable but it's still … embarrassing. Especially with you."

"I'm not following."

Still looking down at the book, Laura more-or-less mumbled, "You expect me to be your equal." She put the book back with the others.

Approaching her slowly, he reached up and laid his hands gently on her shoulders. "No. I don't."

Her green eyes flashed with surprise.

Bill shook his head and began a slow massage of her tense shoulders with his fingers. "I expect you to be _more_ than my equal," he told her with a smile that Laura shared.

"That's a problem."

"How so?"

Reaching up to still his fingers, she stared into his eyes. "I'm tired, Bill," she confessed nakedly. "Between the Cylons and living with cancer and almost dying, losing Billy and now this –" She broke off and turned away with her arms folded over her chest. "You know how they look at me," she whispered. "Half of them think that I should be able to make it right because I'm the – because I _was_ the president. The other half thinks that I'm touched by the Gods. I don't even know what to believe but still they look at me." Laura turned back to face him, looking as tired as he'd ever seen her. "All of them look at me with their hopelessness in their eyes and they expect me to fill them back up again one way or the other." She held out her hands, palm up. "I'm _empty_," she admitted harshly. "How many times can I cheat death and not start to believe that maybe I'm just plain lucky? That the prophecies and scrolls don't mean anything. That there is no Earth or no chance of us ever making it there. That I've been arrogant and delusional and all those things that Gaius Baltar has said that I am."

"Now stop it right there," Bill interrupted. "Baltar has no idea of the courage you've shown since the attack. Don't let him judge you."

Laura pressed her lips together and shook her head. "But they _do_ judge me. The fleet judges me –"

"And some of them have been hoodwinked. Some of them had fallen for the easy promises and the empty charisma and I guarantee you after tonight, they will regret it."

When she didn't respond, he approached her and reached out to rub her arms. "Laura, you say you're empty." He paused until she met his eyes. "If you are, take your hope from me." He brought his hands up to cup her face. "Let me fill you so that you can fill them, because president or not, they _will_ still look to you because they've got nothing else."

She leaned in and pressed her forehead to his.

"And what happens when you're empty, too?"

He wound his arms around her waist. "I never will be because of you."

Laura pulled back slightly, her weary skepticism written all over her face. "Bill, that doesn't make any sense."

Chuckling, he pulled her to him tightly. "Well, maybe this does," he said and kissed her deeply.

* * *

AN2: I tried really hard to rework the last part of this story so that it is suitable for posting here but I am patently unhappy with the results. I feel that changing the story (i.e., cutting out the mature bits) damaged it and made it less than what I had intended it to be. Therefore, I will NOT post the last act of this story here. Should you want to read it, the story is available in its entirety on my LiveJournal (please click on the homepage link in my bio). Thank you for reading. 


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